


i'm a fuckup too

by clownfvcker, Griffy (honklust)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Sugar Pine 7 RPF
Genre: (not steve), Alcohol, Drinking to Cope, Drug Use, Drunk Texting, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Off-Screen Murder, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Slurs, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Clayton James, Trans James DeAngelis, Trans Male Character, Trans Steven Suptic, Transphobia, Vomiting, abusive partners, fake pine 7, traumatic memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clownfvcker/pseuds/clownfvcker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/honklust/pseuds/Griffy
Summary: This is the story of two star-crossed lovers who have broken down after years and yearsBut, just as the stars align, a new suitor appears--Things get really fucking bad after Cib accidentally kills his new girlfriend, and the Sugar Pine 7 boys discover why she wasreallydating him.





	1. Cecilia

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fakes-verse fic and all these characters are fully fictionalized based on the canon fiction of the show Alternative Lifestyle. I am not writing fic based on the Real People. Also, Steve, Cib, and James are all trans men in this fic. If you think this is unrealistic, this is literally my living situation right now. Also it's pride month, so everyone's gay and trans now!
> 
> The first chapter is text-based, but the rest are going to be paragraph. Also this is my first fic so please be nice, I'm babie.
> 
> Re: the Slurs tag, Steve gets called a dyke. I wasn't sure whether to tag it as Transphobic Slurs or Lesbophobic Slurs, so I did just Slurs.
> 
> also, this is moustache cib. this fact isnt all important to this fic, but i wanted everyone to be aware. it is my vision, and moustache cib is hot

Cib  
  
**Today** 2:37 AM  
hey steve  
steeeeeeve  
steben  
What's up, Cib?   
lol  
um so I was winder inf up wnatned to pick em up  
I f you could fuck me up  
fuck me  
pick me up  
Do you want me to fuck you up or pick you up???   
Also are you drunk  
noth  
boff  
I'm jighe  
fuckkk  
fuck!   
come fuck me blease  
she left me :(   
Oh!   
Ceclia??   
beah  
I'm so fucked  
:(((   
What happened, man?   
I thought you guys were... really into each other  
idjshe didn't like me she jsujf fucking wanned 2 hurtmeand   
sheicalled u a fickingdyke and said shse wa s gonna hfurhtyouandilsotit  
I'm driank  
she got mad @ mw  
n I guess she didn't like m actually atlanbut that didnt….matter s much  
mogonna killmyshelf  
She… called me a dyke?? Wow that fucking hurts. What a catch.  
And hey don't do that! You're gonna be fine!   
You've still got me!!   
mso upset  
I loved her ..m for the 2 weeks I was fucking her  
shekfsaid weweore jsut leebisans and is btopped listenning i jstu  
Fuck her then!   
imsortty imsorry i keephurting pple  
I'm gonna kms  
Hey, you're gonna be okay!   
There's plenty of chicks out there who aren’t assholes! Or dudes… who aren’t assholes.  
I'did a fucked up thjgkagakn  
I fucked up  
What'd you do?   
I bfuckedup  
ndf also msaybe i hrt herrlly bad like. real bad.  
Oh my god  
oops  
Jesus Christ Cib where are you  
Dude stop hurting people!  
wekdjd I didn't wanna hit herebut shewas dfrkeaing out an thshit she said mademe  
I was do drink and upsetni coudnlt stop  
muhh  
l think I'm in ur house  
Okay! Weird!   
I'm coming home, then.   
o yeah cuz I wanted to see u  
cuz I was lonely and I thot Steve knows what tdo  
and makfhbe I could shit  
lop brn  
brb  
ok smorry I puked on ur sink  
It's fine. I'll clean it up tomorrow. Whatever.   
Could you not use the toilet?   
cojnrnt reach it  
Steben ...   
I odjdjve you bro  
I fockkg lovoeoe u  
ur my dst friend  
I love you too, Cib.  
❤️  
Now take off your puke clothes and lay down in my bed you fucking idiot.   
hmmmoo  
ooook  
r u gonna soooon me  
spoom me  
Uhhh  
Do you want me to?   
yehah  
mlonely  
I'm so sad sreve  
ughhh godnjbobody loves me imbjanidiot  
hurts  
I love you! And I'll spoon you too!   
With my fucking. Spider limbs  
cosy  
swatch out I'll get my dumb fuckoxiup on you  
:(   
I'm already a fuckup too so it'll be fine  
Steve do u think I'm annidiot  
No!   
I mean sometimes you kinda do dumb things but I don't think you're an idiot.   
I got blood on ur door  
I feel terrnle  
Gross!   
Well yeah cuz you're hammered.   
mhgojna die alone  
alkenandstupidanddrunkandndanferous  
No you're not!   
Also we can't die, remember?   
o yeah  
so I cnsnkill myself?   
can we dieitogether steve  
Well you can kill yourself but you'll just wake up in Geoff's basement.   
And hell yeah we'll die together. We're ride or die!   
kiwanna kissu  
I wanna crawlinside u andkissiup  
ughhh  
ugh this sicks  
No crawling inside me.   
I'm not fucking you while you're hammered. That's gross.   
And you might puke on me which is grosser.   
kindahot  
wannaouke in ur mituh and suck u off and die with u and  
sorry sorry sorry  
I'm not gonna try to translate that!   
maybe I just  
im gonnan slay down  
Yeah, do that.   
I'll be there in 30 minutes, I think? Traffic fucking sucks.   
stbe will u kill me  
I'm not killing you. Shut up.   
ok srry  
I'm just beinggm emo  
You're too old to be emo!   
too old 2 stoll bedating dumb firls who hate me  
Yeah I agree with that.   
You date assholes, Cib!   
Remember that girl who forced you to take Ritalin so she'd like you more??   
yehahhhh  
imean I don't rlly remember  
but she was chtue  
idk  
who Ami supposed to date then  
You dated her for like, an entire year!   
And uh  
I dunno  
Maybe someone who actually likes you?   
nobody fucking likes me lmao  
itsjust chasers and ppk who wannan use me or something probbrky  
LS doesn't have ncie girks  
I like you!   
justlookit james  
yeh but youre  
steve  
you're my breast friend I can't satehyou  
Oh yeah. Definitely.   
besides like youd get too anoited and leave me anyrwy  
you've got that one chick rite  
the dykeyone  
Uhh we've been friends for years, Cib. I haven't left you yet.   
what're u saying here man  
do you WANT to date me?   
No!!   
Weill then fine wew ont date  
Just maybe you should date someone like me, y'know!   
Hahaha  
I dnuhn maybe I just  
need a break  
foucins on hurting pll and doing my job  
Yeah!! good idea  
can we stkll cuddle  
Yes yes absolutely  
I love u bro  
Love you too  
can I have apity blowjob  
No!   
I already said I wasn't going to have sex with you while you're drunk!   
Also you probably couldn't even get a boner  
now stop distracting me I'm trying to drive.   
hey ur the one textin  
hurry uppp  
miss u  
It's not unsafe if everyone on the highway is going 10 mph  
I beef to differ  
Yeah probably  
What's another wrecked car?   
if u die u'll have to start oveeer  
hey where did u go kllasnight anyways  
Uhh  
don't worry about it  
ooo Steve got a boyfriend No! Shut up  
I did something... stupid yesterday.   
Don’t worry about it, okay  
okayyyyy  
do u wanna donsmthn dangerous steve  
Like what?   
idk I wanna fuck up  
we should go pick up some cis dudes  
Eurgh God no.   
I don't wanna deal with cis people.   
I mean meneither but I wanna get greampied  
maybe do some Molly get gangnbanked  
I'm tired of having 2 fhink  
Yeah that sure is fucking dangerous  
But I guess I can't fault you  
I did something dumb last night just so I'd forget being sad.   
what u got to be sad about stebe  
ur my boss!   
Uh nothing  
Don't worry about it  
aww cmon were friends  
u can tlelm me and then we'll go get fucked ip in the bad side of town together  
I was sad because... your girlfriend was a bitch  
u we're sad Abt my gf so u got fucked probly?   
hmmm  
well shit dude  
school she's dead anyway  
What  
isaid she's gone  
Wait wait Cib  
Is she really dead?   
i  
no  
Did you kill her??   
ididntkillher  
no idbuckign said I didn't dude fuck off  
Yeah that sounds a little suspicious  
I don't care if you killed her! I just need to make sure you don't get in trouble  
ivenebr killed anyone  
That's definitely not true.   
stop leave me alone  
ididnt do it on purpose bust she had it coming ok  
I just  
ididntmeanto  
Hey hey hey  
It's okay Cib  
Did you leave her body there??   
I'll take care of it  
imsorry god I'm a fuckingbnightmare ithink James got it James wasn't there but I called him it's fine it's ok she's fien Hey shut up for a second okay  
I'm going to talk to James  
Just go to sleep! You'll be fine  
ok  
I'm just gonna sleep  
are u coming?   
Yeah just give me a sec.   
I'll just call him  


Steve sighed, his one hand that was on his steering wheel flexing against the leather. Jesus, this was a fucking mess. He needed to call James.

**CALLING: James**

**James:** "Uh, hey, man, what's up?"

 **Steve:** "Hey, did Cib call you?"  
**Steve:** "About... his girlfriend."

 **James:** "Oh, you mean that chick he almost murdered? Uhhh yeah."  
**James:** "She's dead now, no biggie. No loose ends."

 **Steve:** "Did he murder her or almost murder her?!"

 **James:** "Well... I mean he seemed upset. I didn't get the whole story."  
**James:** "He called me, I came over, she was on the floor. I assume he did it, I dunno."  
**James:** "She was breathing when I put her in my truck, so I..."  
**James:** "Yanno. Click click bang."

 **Steve:** "Jesus christ!"  
**Steve:** "Ugh, fine. Whatever! That's better that Cib killing her in the middle of a bar or whatever."

 **James:** "I don't know if he killed her! He just seemed out of it."  
**James:** "She's in the bay now, so. No bigs. Probably something you wanna mention to Ramsey though."

 **Steve:** "Ughhhh!"  
**Steve:** "But he already hates us!"  
**Steve:** "But, uh... Thanks for taking care of it."

 **James:** "Yeah. I think Cib might need... To be supervised or something? He was really fucked up."

 **Steve:** "Don't worry. He made his way back to our place somehow. I'm on my way over there now."  
**Steve:** "Said he wanted to, like... kill himself."

 **James:** "Awww. That's cute. The your house thing, not the suicide thing."  
**James:** "I dunno, maybe we can figure out what happened if he sobers up."

 **Steve:** "Yeah. We'll have to take care of any... witnesses."  
**Steve:** "Jesus Christ this is so over my head,"  
**Steve:** "I just wanted to sell drugs!"

 **James:** "No witnesses, as long as he did it where I found them."  
**James:** "Eh, yeah. Crimes a crime, I guess."

 **Steve:** "No it's not! Murdering someone is way worse than selling crack!"

 **James:** "Well, what if you sell crack to kids? That's like, murdering their future."

 **Steve:** "Yeah well I don't sell crack to kids!"  
**Steve:** "Usually."

 **James:** "Unless they've got them big allowances biiiiiitch!"  
**James:** "Ok anyway I gotta go, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind with this girl I'm trying to bang."  
**James:** "Amazing tits but she thinks Bacardi is a brunch drink."

 **Steve:** "Wow! Have fun with that! Don't get Cecilia's blood on her amazing tits."

 **James:** "Ooh sounds kinda hot though... Just kidding! Bye Steve, have fun with that sad bitch."

 **Steve:** "Bye. Fuck you."

 **James:** "Love you too."


	2. I just want to leave now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve couldn’t help feeling alone in this incredibly packed club. What a lame, bitchass thing to do. Being lonely in the middle of a dancefloor. Ugh.
> 
> He was annoying himself. He shuffled forward despite his own desire to stand there like a tall statue commemorating an idiot, sliding through the crowd. By the time he was back by Cib’s side, he felt like he was covered in other people’s sweat. Yuck. 
> 
> “Heeeey! Steve! My boy!” Cib shouted, wheeling on him and slinging his arms around his shoulders. He was sweaty and warm and Steve felt his heart seize in his chest. When Cib’s eyes met his – blown-out and definitely drunk – Steve turned his head. Something about how steady his gaze was made him feel like his skin was crawling.
> 
> “Hey, Cib.” He said, throat feeling tight.

Steve didn’t know why he kept accompanying his boys on outings like this. The music was too loud, and the lights were too bright, and the constant jitter of bodies around him set his teeth on edge. It wasn’t that he had like, social anxiety or whatever, it was just that he didn’t like being this tightly packed. It was claustrophobic.

Some lady had tried to chat him up, he thought, but honestly he hadn’t been paying attention to her. He didn’t want to make new friends tonight. He didn’t have time for that. 

He was trying to keep an eye on Cib, who was leaned up against the bar, grinning and chatting up anyone who came within arms reach of him. God, he envied Cib’s easy confidence – the honey-warm drip of his smile, he wished he could hear his voice from here--

“Um… Hello?” Oh. The girl was still here. Oops. Steve turned towards her, brows furrowed. Annoyed. 

“What? I mean—Uh. Hi. Hell…o.” She was cute – almost too cute. Like she was trying really hard to look like some generic LS Instagram model – bleach-blonde, perfectly manicured, a brush of glitter on her cheekbones. It made him feel weird – some mix of vague attraction and some animal anxiety.

Everything felt like a set-up these days, didn’t it? Maybe the criminal lifestyle had been a bad idea for someone already so predisposed to paranoia. 

She was talking to him, asking him questions, trying to flirt or maybe just trying to get him alone so she could kill him because she must be an informant, a gang member, a drug lord in her own right.

Steve could feel the anxiety slinking up his shoulders like a living, breathing creature, digging its nails into his heart. He broke away from where he was looking – the space behind her head – and put one gentle hand on her shoulder, nudging her backwards cautiously. “Uhhh, no. I’m sorry. I need to… Go over here. Sorry.”

Any other time, he’d be cursing himself for flubbing a potential romance like that, but… Things had been different lately, hadn’t they? He wasn’t so interested in love anymore. In girls. He’d become… distracted. Distracted with work, of course. Just work. Heading up a small-time drug and weapons dealing organization was tough, stressful work. He didn’t have time to think of anything else, let alone the feeling of someone’s warm fingers tracing up his spine, brushing through his hair, kissing away the tenseness in his forehead, whispering, “Relax, bro, it’s—”

Okay. Enough of that.

He swiveled away from where that chick was probably still standing, if she hadn’t wandered off to sob about blowing her chances with objectively the most handsome man in the room. Cib was still in the same place he’d left him, talking and smiling with all his teeth, his eyes glittery. Steve wondered how much he’d drank so far, how many pretty girls and boys had slipped their numbers to him.

He could go over, of course. It was actually weirder of him to just be watching him from a distance like this. But… the thought of being within range of what Cib was saying, of the low, easy way he was flirting with strangers… That didn’t sound like a good time. 

Not to say anything he was doing here tonight was his idea of a good time.

James had also wandered off, although he was supposed to be doing work here tonight. They had a fairly minor drop-off to do for the Fakes (everything was for the fucking Fakes these days) and if all went well Steve hoped to be bringing home a whole one-hundred-dollars in untaxed income. Wow. What a pull.

Steve couldn’t help feeling alone in this incredibly packed club. What a lame, bitchass thing to do. Being lonely in the middle of a dancefloor. Ugh.

He was annoying himself. He shuffled forward despite his own desire to stand there like a tall statue commemorating an idiot, sliding through the crowd. By the time he was back by Cib’s side, he felt like he was covered in other people’s sweat. Yuck. 

“Heeeey! Steve! My boy!” Cib shouted, wheeling on him and slinging his arms around his shoulders. He was sweaty and warm and Steve felt his heart seize in his chest. When Cib’s eyes met his – blown-out and definitely drunk – Steve turned his head. Something about how steady his gaze was made him feel like his skin was crawling.

“Hey, Cib.” He said, throat feeling tight. God, what had gotten into him tonight? He was acting like such a bitch.

And then there was a hand on Cib’s arm – delicate and fine-boned and pretty – and Steve felt his focus start waning, his brain going fuzzy in a way that was uncomfortably familiar. Cib’s hands left his skin, left him cold, and he turned back to the girl in front of him. Steve couldn’t focus on her, couldn’t focus on shit beside the way Cib’s eyes lit up when he smiled at her.

She didn’t smile back, not really – it was like a grimace, all teeth, nothing in her eyes. She looked hungry, Steve thought to himself. That panicky, hunted feeling welled back up inside him, and yes, that was the only feeling welling up inside him. He didn’t care that Cib seemed so into her already, into this random bitch, this girl who didn’t want anything but validation and—

Come on now, Steve. Isn’t that all you want too? 

He let out a sharp, heavy exhale through his nose, staring at this woman like she was the devil incarnate, like the way she was touching Cib was going to dirty him, like she was stealing him from Steve’s arms—

Fuck. No, no, not that. Not stealing – he wasn’t his in the first place. Being best friends and crew members didn’t mean that they were anything more than that. Anything exclusive. Just because Cib sometimes shoved his tongue down Steve’s throat and his hands down his pants didn’t mean that there was something going on between them. Just friends with benefits. Nothing special.

He didn’t realize how hard he was grinding his teeth until he felt a hand on his back and felt his jaw creak. He wheeled around only to find himself looking down at James – his eyes bright and wild, a wad of cash in his hand. “We got it donnneeee, baby.” He waved the money under Steve’s nose and Steve couldn’t help but break into a grin. A hundred bucks wasn’t much – would’ve been more if Ramsey wasn’t taking such an unreasonably huge cut – but he’d be lying if he said any money didn’t make him feel a bit better.

“Nice! Uh, great! Everything went well?” He grabbed the money from James’s sweaty fingers, stuffing it into the front pocket of his skinny jeans. He could not have looked more like a drug dealer if he tried.

“Yeah, bitch! Dude was easy, let me have a little bump. Super cool. Do you wanna dance, man? Or like do you wanna go get food since we have money, I could eat, do you want to-“

“God dammit, James. Stop! Stop fucking doing coke when we’re working!” Steve exhaled, exasperated. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t welcome the distraction from the fucking vampire currently working herself all over Cib, though.

He turned to look at his best friend once more, to ask if he was ready to go. Of course, things couldn’t go that easy, could they? He couldn’t just tell Cib he was leaving without catching sight of that girl shoving her tongue down his throat, fingers curled possessively around his neck, and Steve’s heart was suddenly pounding in his ears, blood rushing into his head. 

He felt dizzy, like the world around him was drawing down and away, leaving him nothing but a ghost, watching his best friend make out with someone else.

This was too emo for him. Too fucking much.

So he turned back to James and let him lead them out the door, jittery and high and safe, leaving Cib to his girl without so much as a goodbye.

\---

Cib  
  
**Today** 1:14 PM  
broooo what happen?  
whered u go glast night  
I fucking left, dude. Looked like you were having a pretty good time with... whoever the fuck that was.  
o cecelia?  
Sure whatever  
yeah lol shes great! sehe let me eat her outt and everyitnhg  
James did a deal and we got some food. Pretty boring, actually  
tbh i think im in love  


Steve read the last text that his best friend had sent, squeezing his phone so tight that the sides of his iPhone dug painfully into his hands.

Cib  
  
**Today** 1:19 PM  
oh sick we got $$$???  
thats great cuz i wanted 2 go on a like. real proper date w her  
Hey! You didn't earn this fucking money.  
You certainly weren't working at the club.  
I'm not funding your dates.  
what! c'mon, dude! I was working!  
You had your tongue down her throat the whole time!  
It's not my fault James decided to go to the back before i was ready!  
You had coke on you, too! Don't get pissy with me because you didn't sell any of it.  
what's your problem, steve? youve been rlly shitty lately  
Some of that coke is mine!   
You've been a really shitty gang member lately.  
And I'm trying not to starve or become Geoff Ramsey's weird sex slave here.  
Well i  
ok man w/e  
i've got to go fuck my super hot girlfriend who loves me  
Yeah, have fun with that.  
Are we still gonna have a boys night btw  
I got drinkies  
Well yeah. Duh  
cool ✌️ see ya then bro  
Mhm.  


Boys night was still on, everything would be fine. If Cib’s track record meant anything, he’d be over this girl within the next few weeks, no big deal.

Steve laid back on the couch and closed his eyes, letting himself ruminate on what kind of enormous character flaws Cecilia probably had that had attracted Cib to her. Maybe she was a chronic liar. Maybe she did meth. There was absolutely no possibility that she was perfect – or even remotely close. 

Nobody Cib dated was good enough for him, even though half the time they stupidly ended up holding themselves in higher esteem. It was bullshit. Cib deserved better than to be treated like a sexy novelty, like a funny boy to play with until you realized he was too stupid and annoying to have in your Instagram story. No, Cib deserved someone who appreciated him, someone who stuck by his side not in spite of the way he acted, but because they loved him the way he was. Fuck. Okay. 

Maybe he should make himself a mid-afternoon drink.


	3. Maybe another time, we could be together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey... Steve?" Cib sounded smaller when he spoke - like he was caught somewhere else.
> 
> Steve felt the seconds tick by. “Yeah?”
> 
> "Do you ever think like..." He inhaled through his nose, pressing his face against Steve’s side, trying to get as much warm contact as he could. His voice wavered. "You ever think I might not be worth the trouble?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _oooh are they gonna share the bed??_

"Hey, so James took care of the whole  _ body _ thing, so, uh..." Steve said loudly into the house that he and James shared ever since Ramsey cut their profits in half, stepping into the main room.

Evidently, Cib hadn’t been lying about the mess he’d made - he’d left a trail of blood and clothes and vomit all the way from the front door to the bathroom and then, finally, to Steve’s open bedroom door. Great. Whatever. He’d deal with that later. He just hoped the blood wasn’t Cib’s.

He stepped over the clothes and goo, making his way over to his room. He stopped in the doorway, looking his mess of a best friend over. "Oh, dude. You look like shit."

Cib was curled up in a tight, sweaty knot of tense muscle on top of Steve’s bed, his face buried in his pillow. Even from that angle, it was easy to see that he looked pale and sweaty. He’d gotten almost entirely naked -- with the bare exception of one sock and his briefs caught up around his ankle. Poor thing.

"Ehhhhhhh..." He replied, shifting just a little to reveal -- holy  _ shit, _ that was a gigantic bruise along the left side of his ribcage - purpley-yellow and gruesome looking in the dark. He flopped over on his other side and kicked his feet out, stretching his nude body flat on the mattress. "Wha’ body?" He slurred, finally lifting his head off the pillow, but not really focusing on Steve. 

He had also not been lying about how fucked up he’d gotten. 

" _ Cecilia's _ body, but uh-- Jesus, Cib!" Steve gasped, walking up to his nude friend. Cib's nudity didn't even strike him as  _ weird _ anymore; they had been naked around each other plenty of times. 

That bruise, though... was definitely not from tonight-- and it looked  _ nasty _ , like he had been hit with a car or like… a bus or something. "What the hell happened, man?"

Cib grimaced when Steve said her name - it hurt, thinking about her, about the shit she'd said to him, about the signs he'd apparently been too goddamn stupid to notice. He was such an idiot, such a wreckless, dangerous fuckup.

He didn't really realize that Steve was talking about the injury, burying his face in the pillow again as his breath hitched. "I'm a fucking  _ idiot, _ man... A f-fuckin' bitch idiot." 

"Hey. Shut up." Steve frowned, sitting down on the bed beside his friend and pushing him over by the shoulder so he could get a better look at the bruise, manhandling him onto his side. God, it was  _ massive _ \-- spanning the entire left side of his ribcage. "Where the hell did this come from?"

"What?" Cib winced, flinching as he was tossed around, the movement tugging at the taut, swollen skin over the contusion. Upon closer inspection, there were in fact what looked like...  _ Grill marks _ ? Yeah, those were… those were definitely grill marks all along his ribcage - a series of parallel lines with a half-circle in the center, indented in yellow. Like the front of a-- "Oh, uhhh... She ran me over."

"What?" Steve gaped, trying frantically to meet Cib’s bloodshot gaze. "She-- _She_ _what?!_ "

Cib wouldn’t look at him, though - his eyes were unfocused and hazy, either from the drugs or the booze or the stress or (more likely) a combination of the three. It was a familiar look on him, one Steve saw all too often. Right now, it was frustrating. He wanted answers.

"Uhh. She..." He swallowed, his expression drawing tight. When he spoke again, his voice was croaky and hoarse, like he was on the verge of tears. "She wanted me dead, I guess."

Steve absolutely couldn't believe what he was hearing, a sickening mixture of panic and rage boiling in his gut. He--  _ he knew it. _ Knew she was no fucking good.

A flood of slimy, perverse catharsis swelled in his chest. Suddenly, he was very,  _ very _ glad that James had shot the bitch. He reached out and placed a hand on Cib's shoulder, trying to be comforting. "Why-- why the hell would she want you  _ dead _ ?" His voice was soft, but strained.

"I'unno." He slurred, leaning forward and awkwardly draping himself against Steve as best he could. It wasn’t a very comfortable position, for either of them, really, but he wanted the contact. His eyes drifted closed, grimacing softly. 

God, the alcohol was actually starting to wear off, he'd been awake so fucking long. "I need more booze please." Cib replied in lieu of a real answer, his voice still low. The fact that he was already sobering up was just another cruel joke. 

Steve held him awkwardly in his arms, his limbs already starting to cramp up. "No, dude. You already puked all over my sink." 

Cib... was probably hurt pretty badly, actually. Looking at those bruises made his stomach churn, made him so mad his hands shook. He wanted to know  _ why _ that stupid bitch Cecelia  _ hit Cib with a car, _ but he supposed that could wait for now. "I think, uh-- I think we should go to the hospital, man. You probably have internal bleeding or something."

"Whaaatno-" Cib was just mumbling now, nosing against Steve's arm like a dog. His eyes were burning, his heart ached, and okay, maybe also his whole body hurt. He kind of wanted to die. But he was fine. He’d just… drink until it went away. No biggie. "I donwanna go to the doctor man, s'fine. S'been like two... four.... two days."

"Yeah, dude! All your blood is probably out of your veins or something by now!" He shouted, petting at Cib's bird's nest of hair. Goddammit. Steve really wished Cib would stop getting hurt. He wasn’t even going to touch on the fact that Cib had been walking around with this injury for god-knows-how-long - that would just continue to exacerbate his already racing pulse.

"Whateeeever." He shifted, flopping down on his stomach and out of Steve’s grasp, wiggling around until his ass was in the air, knees under himself. He looked like a newborn horse trying to figure out how to stand. "I don't wanna go t'the doctor, just like... Lemme go through wespawn..." 

"Oh, yeah.” Steve had forgotten about respawn.

“I forgot about respawn."

The adrenaline that had hit him as soon as Cib had told him what happened, and as soon as he’d laid eyes on his massive fucking injury -- he’d sort of let their relative immortality slip by him. Well, literal immortality, actually. 

It was a brief relief, one that was immediately fractured by Cib’s next words.

He was rubbing his greasy face against Steve's pillows, voice muffled, but Steve made out what he said, clear as crystal.

"Wanna die anyway."

"Don't... don't say that dude. You don't need  _ her _ ." His voice cracked and he reached out, went to touch him -- faltered. What Steve  _ wanted _ to say was  _ you need someone like me _ , but... Well. He was just Steve. Nothing special. Cib said it himself.  _ But you're Steve.  _ He needed to stop barking up this stupid tree when he knew nothing was going to come of it.

"I'm a fucking idiot.." Cib grumbled in response, curling his toes against the sheets. He was just fucking  _ miserable. _

He wanted to drown himself in booze and drugs until he could forget about Cecelia, and about the shit she'd said, and the fact that she'd tried to kill him  _ twice _ and that he'd been so goddamn  _ naive _ , "I don't think I'm cut out for dating, man... I'm not cut out for shit. For like… Anything.”

Despite the fact that Steve was willing to do literally anything for his friend, he didn't at all know what to do to make Cib feel better.

"Hey, maybe you should just-- just go to sleep, alright? You're drunk, and-- and you'll find someone, man." He rubbed at Cib's head and his hands, his own fingers still trembling.

"I'll cuddle with you." And maybe that was a bad idea-- offering to spoon him like he had asked before. Made them both too vulerable, teetering on the edge of some dangerous, stupid cliff. It wasn’t like that had ever stopped him before, though. Maybe, one day, he’d actually fall off.

“Yeah, okay…” Cib mumbled in response. Cuddling sounded good. Maybe if he got some cuddles it'd make him finally go to sleep for the first time in… fuck, like three days? He shifted down onto his stomach again, wiggling around until he was situated against Steve's side. 

Steve was... nice. He was always there for him - had been since they both thought they were a couple of young girls in a city that was too big, doing work that didn’t pay shit. They’d been together throughout the duration of both their transitions, had toughed out shit that would’ve made other friends turn and run. Hell, Steve had been with him through shit that  _ had  _ made their other friends turn and run.

Steve had to untangle himself for a brief moment - clumsily getting undressed and removing his binder, flinging everything into the floor. He'd have a clean up tomorrow anyways - what was a little more laundry? He returned to the bed as quick as he could, laying at Cib’s side with an arm thrown over his back.

"Hey... Steve?" Cib sounded smaller when he spoke - like he was caught somewhere else.

Steve felt the seconds tick by. “Yeah?”

"Do you ever think like..." He inhaled through his nose, pressing his face against Steve’s side, trying to get as much warm contact as he could. His voice wavered. "You ever think I might not be worth the trouble?"

Steve shifted, nudging Cib over so he could wrap him up in between all four of his long spidery limbs. "Never, man. You're worth all the fucking trouble." He smiled against his shoulder, trying to will away the weird swelling feeling in his chest.

Cib laughed a little at that - dry and miserable - and let his eyes slide shut again. "I love you, bro." He mumbled, already starting to fall asleep. He really was exhausted, now that he was settled down. Secure.

"I love you too." His words came out clipped, just the act of saying it making his heart ache for something that he’d never get. But… but it was true, wasn’t it? He loved Cib more than he’d ever, ever know.

He sat there for a second, thinking about what he wanted to do. 

Cib was... really drunk, so he probably wouldn't remember this, or anything, really. He leaned forward a bit, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Cib's head. 

It didn’t make him feel any better, but. Oh well.

\---

Cib was asleep for a full two hours before he woke up screaming, driving an elbow back against Steve’s rib cage hard enough to make him gag as he floundered awake behind him. He was a tornado of limbs, thrashing and shouting, his eyes gone wide and unseeing in the dark. “FUCK FUCKFUCK NONO- STOP--”

Steve’s eyes were just as wide and bewildered as he squirmed away from his writhing friend. Fuck, were they under attack?! 

It took him only a few seconds to realize that, no, it was just Cib and his sleep screaming-- something that he’d grown pretty used to waking up to when he slept with him. Especially if he was stressed out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. Hey! Cib, it's-- it's just me!"

Cib’s panic continued on, his breath coming in rapid heaves as he forced himself up onto his elbows. But the sound of Steve’s voice was familiar, drew his attention. He grabbed onto him clumsily - fingers tight around his biceps, his bloodshot eyes flickering over his face like he didn't recognize him. "Steve… Steve? I- I didn't-- I didn't do it-- Steve, I didn't do it, I didn’t, please--” 

"Hey, hey, hey. I know you didn't do it. It's okay. I'm right here." He mumbled as comfortingly as he could, his own chest heaving. To be honest, he didn't really know what Cib was talking about, especially not while he was still half asleep himself, but he was sure half of it didn’t mean anything. God only knew what went on in his nightmares, after all.

But every time Cib blinked - his eyes staying shut a little too long, clingy with sleep - he could see it all over again - see the anger and frustration in her eyes, and then the blood pooling on the dingy concrete, dark as wine. He could still hear what she’d said to him, hear the derision in her voice. He had just been off-kilter enough for it to push him over the edge, right? He was tired of people looking down on him, sure, but what really did it was what she’d said about Steve, about his boys--

The smell of her blood was in his nose, high and metallic and sickening -- it clung to his skin, buried under his nails and smeared across his busted knuckles. Marking him, showing that he was a monster.

He'd done it, he knew he'd done it, but-- "I loved her already-- I-I lo-loved her and I- Didn't--" He hiccuped, heart hammering as he clutched at Steve's skin, his palms sweaty and cold. "She made me- I couldn't--"

Ugh. Why the hell was Cib so convinced that he loved his chick? 

They were only dating for, like, three weeks! Fuck her. He was glad she was dead. And maybe it was wrong to roll his eyes in the dark while his best friend was currently freaking the fuck out, but… But Cib could fall in love with girls he talked to for five minutes at the gas station, and he couldn't even fucking see that his best friend of years was in  _ love _ \--

No, no. He wasn’t going to follow that train of thought. Whatever. He'd ruminate on that later. Cib was still panicking. That was issue one. He sat up fully, wrapping his scrawny arms around Cib, squeezing as tight as he could manage. "Hey, dude. You're safe, alright? Don't worry. There’s nothing to worry about. Nobody blames you."

Cib hiccupped wetly, hunching forward against Steve's chest. 

He shuddered in his grasp, but the warm arms on his skin did help -- it always did, it was half the reason either James or Steve spent the night with him so often. 

He didn’t want to sleep if he knew he’d have nightmares, and he could certainly find ways to keep himself awake. Couldn't work if he'd been awake for a solid three days, could he? Bad for business. So a solution to the nightly panic attacks was better than letting him tough them out on his own. That was all this was. Just… a workplace solution.

Cib sniffled against his skin, nose pressed up against his breastbone, getting snot all over him. "St-Steve?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Don't worry." He said, then yawned. Steve knew that Cib was upset, but honestly he still wasn’t conscious enough to really handle the situation. He swallowed down another yawn. 

Cib grumbled a little, rubbing his face against his skin. Yuck.

"Steve, I don't..." He yawned in return, pressing a lazy little kiss to his damp chest as he started to drift back off already. "Don't leave me, blease."

He held Cib against his chest, slowly easing them both back down onto the pillows. "I’m not gonna leave you. Now go back to sleep."

Sleepily, one of Cib’s hands came up, gently resting on Steve’s breast. Oh. His titty. Okay, sure. Whatever. 

“I love you.” He mumbled. 

Steve felt his heart skip, even as he was already starting to pass back out. “Mhmm. Love you too.” He didn’t know if he ever wanted to stop saying that, actually.


	4. Are we all in danger?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, Steve always took shit sooo _seriously_. He always wanted to "fix it" or "deal with the issue" or whatever the fuck. He didn't know why he couldn't just get high and crawl back in bed forever.
> 
> Who needed solutions when there were so many different ways to avoid your problems altogether?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: cib does puke in this chapter. its not terribly graphic, but its also not off-screen either

Cib managed to sleep through the rest of the night - and, actually, half of the following day. Granted, that was probably thanks to all the chemicals in his system and the fact that he’d stayed awake for nearly 72 hours prior. 

When he finally woke up his throat felt closed off, eyes dry and itchy. God _damn_ that was some hangover, wasn’t it? He groaned and rolled over to find an empty space beside him, hand coming up to wipe the drool off his chin. This was definitely Steve’s house. He’d slept with him last night, right?

"Stebe? Steeeeeve!"

For his part, Steve had woken up at a normal time of day -- around six in the morning, actually. He’d been up since then, on his computer, editing footage. What footage? That wasn’t important. Just personal stuff. Cib’s shouting penetrated through his headphones and he tugged them down to rest around his neck. 

"Hey, you're finally awake!" He called back, looking towards the bedroom door. Knowing Cib, today would not be much different from any other. That was just… the way he handled shit.

Cib peeled himself out of bed slowly, wincing at the pain from his definitely-broken ribs. 

Fuck, man, getting hit by a car SUCKED. He shuffled out into the other room fully naked, the circles under his eyes so deep he looked like a fucking skeleton. He offered Steve a doofy little grin. "Didja miss me while I was out?"

"Jesus, dude! Put some damn clothes on." Steve snorted, waving a hand at him frantically. Pointedly ignoring his question. "The neighbors are gonna see your bush.”

"Let em look, bro! The more the merrier!" Even still, he moved back into the bedroom, disentangling his Calvin Klein’s from the bedsheets and tugging them up over his hips. With that, he was back by Steve’s side, resting his elbow on his shoulder. “Whatcha editing?”

Steve turned his attention back to his computer, casually minimizing his screen. “Uhh...Nothing. Just… trying to find a good song to put in this part of a vlog I’m making. Don’t worry about it.”  As much as he wanted to get back to editing footage of Cib and James fucking around in the living room, they had bigger issues at hand. 

Issues that needed to be talked over, even though he _hated_ talking about shit that actually mattered. He spun his chair around again, facing his friend. "So, uh... so what happened last night, man?"

Cib averted his eyes, throat clicking a little when he swallowed.

His expression went blank for a second - nothing in his eyes - but then that look was replaced with the barest ghost of a smile on his lips - careful and precarious. 

He was over it - easy as that. 

Cib didn't need _time_ to get over shit, he just needed enough alcohol and sleep to repress it so he could get on with his fucking life. There had never been a girl, as far as he was concerned. No girl, no nothing. Just a mysterious amount of blood under his fingernails and a rib injury. Nothing unusual. "Ohhh, I guess I got a lil glassed - a lil trashied. No big deal."

Okay, that absolutely wasn't an answer, and Steve was sure that Cib knew that too. As much as he wanted to let Cib do what Cib did with tragedy, he needed answers. After that, he’d leave him alone to go back to his nice little fantasy world.

He leaned forward in his chair a bit, his elbows resting on his pajama pants. "Dude, c'mon. Don't bullshit me. Why-- why did Cecilia hit you with her _car_?"

"Oh, that wasn't glast night." Cib laughed, furrowing his brows. Silly, silly Steve. The car accident was like… last week or something. Couldn’t really remember.

He was really starting to get a headache from the hangover, and maybe he could use a shower and a couple tylenol and his-- "Aw, SHIT!" He cursed, slapping himself on the forehead. "Aw, man, fuck. She broke my goddamned vape, dude!"

His expression genuinely fell then - actual anger replacing it for just a moment. Fuck, dude. That thing was fucking expensive. 

The fact that the thing Cib was most worried about was his _fucking vape_ made Steve feel... exasperated, to put it kindly. It was so fucking difficult getting information out of him sometimes - like trying to get blood from a stone.

"Dude, we'll get you a new rig." He soothed him offhandedly, voice tinted with annoyance. "Just-- was Cecilia, like... being a bitch to you the entire time you were dating, or...?"

"Oh, yeah, man she's a huuuuuge bitch." He mimed a throat-slitting motion, rolling his eyes back in his head. The pantomime was a little unsettling when Steve thought about how those hands had most assuredly ended that woman’s life. "She made me give her my passplort, and then like, didn't even give me head."

Wow, this was going to be fucking impossible. He ground his palms into his eyes for a brief second, then looked back to Cib. "Password? To _what_?"

"My bassport!" Cib nudged Steve’s chair back shifting so he could try to settle his ass down in his lap,  nearly toppling the entire chair over in the process. Steve yelped a little. "I mean, she told me she was with those--" He gestured, frowning. "Some other bitchass gang. I dunno. Whatever. Who cares.”

He barely knew who they were talking about, anyway. Cecilia. Whatever.

"A _gang?!_ " Steve shrieked, now passively letting Cib climb into his lap while a panic attack starting building in his brain. Oh shit. Ohhhh shit. That-- that was bad. Real bad. And it all made sense! Fuck! The pieces were all coming together. He should’ve trusted his fucking instincts.

"Cib. What gang was she in?"

"I dunno. Not ours." He draped himself across Steve’s lap, all elbows and knees. Comfortable, despite the way the computer chair creaked under their combined weight. His expression was placid.

Why was Steve so freaked out, anyway? They could just tell the Fakes to take care of it. No big deal. "Relax, man. James pegged her in the head anyway." He made a whistling sound, tapping Steve in the center of his forehead. 

"No, man! I'm not going to relax!" He shouted, voice cracking as he swatted away Cib’s stupid, dumb hand. "She-- she was only dating you to get information! Oh my God! And-- And James killed her! What if the rest of her gang comes for _us_?!" Oh god, they were definitely going to come for them.

"I'unno. Kill them too?" He cocked his head to the side, easing one hand down the side of Steve's face. "You're so smooth."

Steve swatted Cib's hand away again, starting to get _very_ annoyed on top of freaking out. Why did everything have to keep happening? Why couldn’t they just be part-time drug mules and film a little amateur porn on the side and not have to deal with-- with like, this hardcore shit! It wasn’t like they did REAL gang stuff! 

"I don't even know what crew she was in, asshole! We-- we gotta call Geoff or something." He said, scrambling for his phone. Geoff could help. Geoff didn’t like them much, but certainly he didn’t want to have them all slaughtered or-- or worse. Probably definitely worse.

Cib rolled his eyes again. 

God, Steve always took shit sooo _seriously._ He always wanted to "fix it" or "deal with the issue" or whatever the fuck. He didn't know why he couldn't just get high and crawl back in bed forever. Who needed solutions when there were so many different ways to avoid your problems altogether? 

He flopped out of Steve's lap, heaving a sigh. "Whatever, dude. Just let daddy take care of it." He shuffled over to where his pants were still laying by the front door, tugging them on over his briefs. A billfold fell out of the pocket.

"Yeah, man! Geoff's our _daddy_ ! He's our daddy and we're his three sweet little bitch boys!" He snapped, holding his hand out in a _give me the wallet now_ gesture. “What’s that? Give me that.”

"Geeeez, someone broke up on the wrong side of the bed." He bent down and grabbed the wallet off the sticky carpet, chucking it in Steve's direction. 

He could remember grabbing it, at James’s indication. Looking down at his hands now, he could see the blood under his nails just barely peeking out from beneath chipped polish, and oh, yeah the expression on her face when she hit the ground and--

His face fell, eyes growing a little distant again. 

" _Thank you_." He said, managing to catch the wallet in both hands without fumbling it.

The item kept him preoccupied enough that he didn’t notice Cib’s change in posture. He dug through it frantically, finding--  an ID, seven dollars in cash, a debit card, and... nothing. 

There was literally nothing else. "There's, like, nothing in here." He grumbled, inspecting the driver's license further. Her... name sure was Cecilia. 25 years old. From California, LS address. So, like, totally useless. Literally no more information than they already had.

"Sorry." Cib mumbled, standing there with his fly open, his shoulders slumped, eyes looking unfocused at the smear of red up the inside of the door. He couldn't stop looking at it, thinking about the stink and the heat and the sound of her head hitting the-- He buckled forward, clasping a hand over his mouth as he started to gag.

"What-- oh _shit_ ." Steve nearly jumped out his desk chair, sprinting to find a bowl or trashcan or _something_ for Cib to throw up in. He should’ve been better prepared. When did Cib wake up hungover and _not_ decorate his fucking house with puke?

He returned to Cib's side as fast as he could, frantically shoving him the first large tupperware he could get his hands on. “Here, here! Uhh, don’t- don’t puke on the fucking carpet!” The bloodstains were enough of a mess to start with.

It wasn't the first time he'd puked in Steve's house - hell, once he'd wound up vomiting in his lap on a particularly heavy night of partying - but it was definitely one of the most unpleasant. 

The only thing in him was liquor and stomach acid, and it fucking _burnt_ as it surged up out of his mouth. His throat constricted around the sudden rush of fluid, forcing bile up out of his nose and sputtering out of his mouth. He tried to cover it with his hand, only really making more of a mess as it dribbled down his fingers and his wrist. He cut that out pretty quick, though, realizing blearily that Steve had offered him a receptacle.

Aw, jeez. Gross. _Gross gross gross_ , Steve thought. Some of the vomit that surged out of Cib's mouth and nose splashed up against the edges of the tupperware and hit his fingers where he was still gripping it by the rim. Grosssss. 

He stood by Cib's side while he got sick, supporting the uncomfortable container, although he averted his eyes away from the scene. He didn’t want to make himself sick on top of it. The noises he was making sounded fucking _awful_ , poor dude, but after a few terrible heaves, it seemed like he was done. "You-- you good, dude? Jesus."

Cib swallowed thickly, righting himself and wiping his pukey mouth on his hand. He looked pale, and a little nauseous still, but he did seem to be safe for now. "Eugh, uhhh... sorry." He mumbled, rubbing his clean knuckles against his tired eyes. "I just... Uhh..." He didn't wanna talk about it - didn't want to admit what had happened or why it was fucking him up so bad. Why couldn't he just fucking forget about it?

"Hey, man. Don't worry about it. Do you-- do you want some medicine or something?" Steve took the vomit-filled tupperware (yuck) from Cib's hands and headed towards the trash can. "I don't... have any medicine, but…" He trailed off, realizing he was being completely unhelpful.

Cib's must've thrown up because he was so hungover, and he didn't think he could get much more information out of the poor dude for now. Or maybe ever. He’d go ahead and get Cib tucked back in.

It was time to call his boss.


	5. Someone coming back to collect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lil bit." Cib mumbled, coughing again as he lowered his vape hand and looked up into Steve's eyes. It wasn't really the time for it, but he couldn't help but think about how cute Steve looked - silhouetted in the dim light from the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed, the little gap in his teeth showing. Even though he looked really worried right now... Okay, maybe he always thought Steve was cute, and maybe he'd spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like if they were more than just best friends... But, well. That was stupid. People didn't fall in love with their best fucking friends - that was Disney shit. Besides, he'd be lying to himself if he even entertained the idea that Steve would want to be in a relationship with him -- he'd annoy him to death before they even went on a date.
> 
> That was why he distracted himself with pretty girls. Didn’t really mean as much if they got tired of him - wasn't anything that would hurt forever. There would always be more pretty girls, right?

He sat on his couch once he got Cib cleaned and back in bed, hands clammy and gross. Eurgh, this was gonna suck. Not that he had, like, _social anxiety_ or anything. That was stupid. He was just bad at talking on the phone. And who wasn’t? Everyone sucked at talking on the phone!

Geoff Ramsey picked up after the fourth ring.

The leader of the Fake Achievement Hunter Crew was... less than pleased to have someone calling him when he was _just_ getting ready for a saucy little hangout with the Lads. It wasn't often he got to see Gavin and Michael together on the weekends, and he was taking his time prettying himself up. He was even more cranky when he realized it was one of the fucking Sugar Pine kids calling him. Godammit. He answered, gruffly, his knuckles tapping against the top of his dresser.

"What do you need?"

"Hey, uh! Daddy!" Okay, off to an _awful_ start. "No, uh-- Geoff. Normal... Geoff. Uh--"

Geoff faltered, his brows furrowing. Daddy? Did he... did he have a drunken conversation with him and say that he was his fucking daddy? When did he even speak to this kid last?

"Uh." He replied, shortly. "I'm not- I'm not your daddy! I don't... think. If I said I'd be your daddy I take that back." Good. Dealt with that.

"No no no, uh-- earlier I was just... saying that you were _like_ our daddy... and we were your sweet little bitch boys, and--" Wow! You sound like a fucking idiot, Steve! Why the hell would you tell him that? "Anyways! I think... we miiiight be in some trouble."

"Uhh ha ha!" He laughed out two distinct, awkward syllables, voice cracking a little. "Nobody's my bitch boy besides Gavin! Or, uh, well, he's not _my_ bitch boy--" He cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders. 

Okay. Steve was just not going to respond to whatever the hell that was. 

"What kind of trouble, kid? And why should I fix it?" Geoff said, tightening a bowtie against his neck.

It took Steve a second to respond, anxious nausea pooling in his throat. "I think... a rival gang might be after us."

"Uh huh." Geoff sounded patently uninterested. "And?"

"Uhhh..." 

He didn't expect to have to explain himself more than that. "I don't wanna die? Cib already got hit by a car... Oh, uh. We killed her, though, so..."

"You're not gonna die, dipshit." Geoff paced around to the other side of his room, grabbing his freshly dry-cleaned pants. He still needed to get ready, dammit.

And, well, _yeah_ , Steve knew he wasn't going to die. But preferably he could go about his days without the threat of getting prison shanked. Or shot. Or having his guts pulled out of him in some dock-side warehouse.

"Wait, hold on." Geoff paused, grimacing. "So you killed a lady? Some rival lady?” He didn’t care. But… Well, he supposed it was also sort of his business. Ugh.

"Yeah, uh-- her name's Cecilia. Cib was dating her for a while, but... I have no idea what gang she's from."

"Great." Geoff sounded less disinterested now and more frustrated. "So now I need to unravel some grand fuckin' mystery to find out who this Cecilia bitch-- Sorry, _woman_ \-- was... So I can get them off all of our asses. Jesus."

Oof, Geoff sounded really, _really_ annoyed. "Yep! That's-- that would be great. But we can, uh, totally help!"

"Oh, you can? _You'll_ help?" He laughed sarcastically, voice cracking again. 

There was a brief pause and the distinct sound of the other man doing a hefty line of coke. He sniffled as he returned. "Fuck, why did I hire you little freaks?"

"Beeeeecause your boyfriend took pity on me cuz I cried all over him after we fucked."

God, he hated even _remembering_ that stupid day. Fuck.

Sure, they’d been dealing in Fakes territory, and sure, maybe they’d had it coming, but… Still. Yikes.

He could still remember the ice that shot through his veins when the fucking _Vagabond_ had kicked his front door down, threatening to kill them all if they didn’t stop immediately.

Well, actually, he was _supposed_ to kill them all right then and there. They’d already blown their chances without even knowing it. But… The Vagabond had a heart, Steve supposed, or else they’d just gotten lucky by being such pathetic little idiots. So… So he’d let them live, as long as they’d agree to stop selling.

Steve did not stop selling.

And then… Uhhh. Then there was the issue of how they’d found them out because the British one (Gavin?) had texted the Vagabond to brag about “smashing Steve’s _tight little boy-twat”_ (Gross gross gross, awful decision to start with).

Gavin was supposed to go ahead and pull the trigger before he left.

"Wh-which boyfriend?" He grumbled, pulling fancy, overly-expensive socks up his calves. "Also, he should've killed you anyway."

"British one." He shifted on the couch uncomfortably, not at all digging being told he should've been shot in the head. He knew he was luckier than he had any right to be -- that the three of them were alive by some bewildering grace of God. 

Oh. Geoff didn't realize Gavin had been fucking around with them, but... Well, if his notoriously testy cohort didn't kill them, maybe they were better at garnering sympathy than he'd thought. 

“What, did you sob all over him?”

Steve did not answer right away. “Uh.” Yes. Yes, of course he did.

“Figures.” 

Ugh. Whatever. He sniffed again, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand as the comfortable buzz of a high started to hum through his veins. "Liiisten, kid. I don't have a lotta uh, time to talk about this right now. I've got a date to get my dick wet, so... Uhhh... I'll call you later. Just try not to do anything stupid."

Wow, okay. This phone call was totally meaningless! Now Geoff just knows that they're all stupid little bitches. Ughhhhh. Great.

"Yeah, uh-- okay. Should we... not leave the house, or…?"

He sighed audibly. "Yes. Stay inside, lay low, blow your little friends to pass the time or whatever. If you hear anything suspicious just pretend you're not home and hope they'll go away. If I have to come home to you assholes in my basement I'm gonna be pissed."

"You-- you got it, uh, boss!" He said, cringing at how stupid that sounded. Abort mission. This was not going to get better if he kept talking. "Okaybye!"

Fuck, that was awful. Okay. 

Stay in the house. 

James still wasn't home, probably because he was still out with the girl he was trying to bang or whatever. "Amazing tits” was all the description Steve had gotten. She sounded lovely.

Considering that James was, uhh, the guy who’d shot Cecilia (and the only other person who knew what the fuck happened last night) Steve figured he should probably go ahead and get his ass back home. 

\---

James  
  
**Today** 12:22 PM  
Hey, James. Get home now.  
Like, right now.  
h  
my home or  
o yeah we live together now huh  
k gimme uhhhhh 30  
Holy shit. Did you forget we live in the same house?  
srry  
crazy night! lol  
And no! Not 30! You need to leave NOW!  
jeeeeesus dude chill  
We're in danger, asshole!  
we AM the danger  
That Cecilia bitch was in a rival gang!  
oh yeah? haha sick! i killed a gang bitch  
k lemme get my FAT COCK out of this chick  
You're literally the worst  
I hate you so much.  
✌️  
love u steve  
so should i bring her gun and jacket  
Oh my God, you still have those?!  
Yes yes yes bring them  
uhhh yeah its a cool jacket  
ok im coming (lol)  
Die.  
k  


\---

James took his time getting his pants on - in all honesty, he had been underwhelmed with this girl anyway, but the party she'd met him at had been pretty sick at least. Party chicks were _way_ better than college chicks. College chicks always tried to act like they were _better_ than him. She seemed pretty interested in his gang shit too, so that gave him a bunch of badass stories to really get her in the _mood_.

He slid on his sunglasses, grabbed Cecilia's coat and stuffed both his gun and hers down the front of his pants before squinting out into the sunlight. God, he was fucking hungover. 

\---

He showed up at Steve's place a little while later, hammering on the door before he remembered that he had a key and working it open. "Heeeey boys!"

Steve was hidden behind the couch when James walked in, a gun he didn’t know how to use pointed at him over the back cushions. "Holy shit, dude! Could you be any louder?! I told you we were in fucking danger!" 

He scowled, glad he hadn’t actually had to fire the stupid thing. Also that he hadn’t shot James. Whatever.

"Everyone's in danger when I'm around, beeeeeetch." James slammed the door behind himself, drawing both guns from his waistband and tossing the new one down on the coffee table, followed by the dead woman's jacket. 

Steve flinched when James threw _the fucking gun_ on the table, fully expecting it to go off on impact. Thankfully, though, that wasn't how guns worked.

"Don't throw guns, man! What's wrong with you?!" He yelled, eyes wide and panicked. God, his heart really couldn't take this level of stress. Where the hell was his vape? 

"Where's Cib?" James asked, ignoring how Steve was an anxious mess.

"He's in my bed, fucking hungover." He replied, rising to his feet and looking for his vape. Oh, there it was.

“What about Autumn?” 

 _Autumn_! Oh fuck! How did he not even THINK to check in on Autumn? Steve felt a fresh wave of anxiety swell in his chest. He was literally going to die from stress. This was a nightmare. “I- Uh, I haven’t called her-”

“You didn’t even tell her she was in danger? Oof, dude. Yikes.” James was still not taking this very seriously. He pulled out his phone, tapping out a quick text.

Autumn  
  
**Today** 12:56 PM  
hey autumn lay low for a while  
uhh why?  
idk we killed some lady and steve’s panicking. Just dont get shot ✌️  
uhhhhhh okaaaay. Thanks for telling me i guess.  


“I handled it.” 

Oh thank god, James had handled it.

“Did you tell her to come over here?”

“No? Should I?” He frowned, looking around at their living room. It was actually kind of a wreck, not that he cared. “Where’s she gonna sleep?”

“Uhh, yes, she should come over here! So she doesn’t get-- get murdered or kidnapped or some shit!” Steve paced around the couch, the gun in his hand shaking visibly as he lowered it to the coffee table. Coffee. Coffee! He needed some iced coffee. Yeah. “Tell her to stop by Starbucks on the way over.” 

James snorted a heavy exhale and went back to texting. Jesus, Steve needed a chill pill.

Autumn  
  
**Today** 12:57 PM  
hey autumn  
hi again lol  
steve says come over  
also bring coffee  
are we doing a shoot or something? Im kinda busy... :/  
no i guess hes worried you’ll get hurt or some pussy shit  
awwww   
ok im with bruce but i’ll head out i guess  
sicko mode  
get me a venti pls  
k  
hope i dont get shot in the starbucks lol  


“Okay, she’s coming over.” 

Great.

“With coffee.”

Even better.

“So Cib’s fucked up, huh?” James said, leaning over the coffee table and grabbing Steve’s vape. He took a heavy rip off of it, letting smoke billow out of his mouth when he spoke. “What’s the whole situation?”

Steve snatched the vape out of James’s hand, inhaling for a solid five seconds before blowing the smoke out of his nose. Aw yeah, that was the stuff. Get nicc'd up, baby. 

"So Cib says that Cecilia bitch was in a rival gang, and like, I'm pretty sure they're gonna come looking for us since you, oh, I don't know, _shot her in the head?_ " He took another rip.

"Oh, also she stole his passport and hit him with her car."

James watched Steve, listening intently. Or, he probably was watching him and listening - it was hard to tell because he was still wearing his fucking sunglasses inside the house.

After Steve was done talking, James hummed, kicking his feet up on the table. "Okay. I knew about the car thing, I think that was why they uh..." He glanced towards the bedroom door, brows furrowed. "I guess they got in a fight, right? Basically all I know is Cib called me at like two in the morning all fucked up, saying something about how the girl was bleeding so I came over and cleaned up the evidence." He brushed his hands together. “I’m a cleaner, baby!”

"Wait- You _knew_ about the fact that she hit him with her car?!" Steve glared at him, mouth open in shock.  Why the hell would Cib tell _James_ and not him? They were best friends! Why wouldn’t Cib have trusted him with the knowledge that he’d been hurt--

“Uhh yeah, I was there." He faltered, raised an eyebrow at him. "Did he not tell you?"

“No.” What the fuck. Why were his boys keeping secrets from him?

"Huh." James chewed that over, stretching in his seat. "Maybe he didn't want to freak you out?"

Steve didn't respond to that. He just took another fat rip. Freak him out? He wasn’t going to freak out! He would’ve just killed her himself. That’s all. 

"We're stuck in here until Geoff finishes his little date." He bit out, changing the subject. Sure, he wanted his boss to take this more seriously, but… Well. If Geoff wasn’t too worried it was probably good, right?

"So we're having a cozy little sleepover, huh?" With that, James got to his feet, making his way to the kitchen to dig around for something to help his fucking headache. "That Cecilia chick must've said something pretty bad to him to get him to..." He grimaced, turning back to face Steve. "I mean, he really fucked her up. Seems kinda out of character."

“Maybe.” Steve wasn’t… so sure about that. Cib was a happy-go-lucky guy, but they’d both seen what he was capable of under certain circumstances. There was a reason he was the ace they had in their pocket when they needed to intimidate someone (as much as James liked to think he was the sole point of intimidation here.)

Cib was unpredictable by nature. That was what made him so dangerous. And maybe… maybe also what made Steve like him so much.

“I mean she did try to vehicular manslaughter him.” Steve pointed out, taking another heavy vape rip. The room was already getting hazy. 

“Well, yeah, but…” James’s brows were furrowed as he returned from the kitchen with a bag of chips and a can of La Croix, like he was really trying to puzzle it out. “I dunno, dude. He didn’t seem THAT mad about the whole car thing, right? She must’ve done some other shit.”

Steve was tired of thinking about that. He was tired of thinking about what had happened to make Cib snap, and additionally, he was tired of thinking about how close Cib might always be to snapping. How he could be a hair's-breadth from the trigger at all times and they’d have no idea. It was a little unsettling.

And… okay, maybe a little exciting too. Ugh. God, he was sick of thinking all together. Sick of trying to figure out his own feelings. “It does make you wonder what else she was doing to him.” Steve agreed, his voice low. He was starting to get kind of dark and sulky, and James could see it happening. He just hoped he wasn’t going to have to deal with cranky Steve by himself for too long.

James shrugged his shoulders, leaning up against the doorway to the living room. "So what're we supposed to do if her friends show up? We gonna have a real gang fight?"

God, he fucking hoped not. “I guess so.” Steve groaned, turning away from James to sink down on the couch, his head flopping back when he landed, flinging his arms in the air dramatically. “And then we show up in Ramsey’s basement after we get shot a billion times.”

James laughed at him, circling around the couch to offer Steve a pat on the shoulder. “Relaaaax. I can take out a bunch of loser lackies. No big deal.”

\---

In the other room, Cib had fallen into another fitful sleep. 

It was easier to sleep than to be awake, but even still, there wasn't really any escape from the events of the previous evening. No matter what he did, he still saw Cecilia, staring up at him with that disgusted, furious expression on her face, a gun wrapped tight in her hand. She'd been mad at him all afternoon, mad at him for not listening, for not answering her weirdly specific questions, for whatever else. He was already getting kind of sick of getting yelled at, honestly -- and after she had hit him with her car and drove off he was _really_ starting to get cold feet. He also wasn't listening to what she was yelling at him until he felt her hand on his jaw. Her expression was one of simpering rage, her jaw clenched as she spoke directly in his face. 

"We’ll kill you and your stupid fucking dyke friends, and I'll make sure before they die they know that it's _your fucking fault_ for not working with--" 

And that had been it, right? The thought of Steve dying compounded with someone calling him a dyke -- calling _Steve and James_ that shit… He’d barely registered the muzzle of her pistol grinding into his ribcage. Barely registered the words coming out of her mouth, after that. The world just went grey.

He could still taste the coppery metallic flavor in his mouth as he pulled his fist back and hit her and then he'd kept hitting her and-- and-- she’d dropped her gun then, but he couldn’t stop, he wasn’t himself, he was just angry and overwhelmed and afraid and--

Cib woke up with a strangled, breathless scream caught in his throat, clawing at the sheets. Instead of her name on his lips, though, he found himself sobbing, choked, “Steve…? Steve I’m sorry--”

Steve practically jumped out of his seat when he heard Cib screaming. He scrambled across the living room, nearly tripping over his own feet to his bed where Cib was supposed to be recovering from his hangover. James was hot on his heels, but he didn’t have time to pay much attention to that.

"Cib!" He yelled, throwing himself into the bedroom, the door slamming into the wall behind it. He was drenched in sweat, cradling his head in his hands, entirely tangled up in the sheets. He had the worst thousand-yard-stare Steve had ever seen - his face drawn and miserable and unspeakably, terribly innocent. He looked - in that moment - like a frightened child.

Jesus Christ. He looked worse than he had before, like he was really slipping. Steve hadn’t seen him like this since… since Parker. And they still couldn’t really talk about that.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay, Cib. I got you." He pulled Cib into his arms, tugging his stiff, unresponsive body tight to his chest. “Relax, buddy. It’s okay.”

“Is he alright?” James asked, louder than necessary. He hurried over to Cib’s other side, resting a hand on his back.

Cib tucked himself up against Steve’s chest after a heavy moment, clutching desperately at his shirt, catching the fabric in his sweaty hands. His breathing was heavy, heart hammering in his throat. It took him awhile to get anywhere close to coming to his senses. All he knew was Steve was here, and Steve wasn't going to hurt him or-- or get hurt -- and-- and James… James too, right? He could hear him yelling behind him, feel another hand on his shoulder. The body heat was good, it helped steady him in the real world.

He swallowed, grinding his sweaty face into the crook of the other man's neck, panting softly. "I-I had to-- I had t'make sure she didn't- She was gonna- But I-- I should've stopped, Steve, I shouldn't have-” 

“Hey, man, relax.” James’s voice was stern but kind, his brows furrowed, his mouth flattened into a line as he made eye contact with Steve over Cib’s shoulders. “You didn’t do _anything,_ got me?” 

He’d dealt with this before - same tone, same words. Steve felt an uncomfortable sense of deja vu. This was what James had done back with Parker, back when they’d wheeled Cib’s stone-solid body out of that living room, eased his hands open from where they were balled tight into fists. They’d all been so young back then, hadn’t they? Young, with some of the first blood they’d ever seen in real life currently spilling out of one of their friends bodies in the other room. That moment had been formative for them all. It had been an indication of whether or not they were good people. And the answer was… Well.

There weren’t any good people in Los Santos, were there?

James knew how to deal with this, though. He had the stone-faced determination of a man who'd dealt with worse things. And for once, Steve was grateful he was here.

Cib stayed like that for a long moment - just breathing and trembling against Steve’s skin. Everything was so heavy - like a nightmare he couldn't quite wake up from. It made his chest tight, and he fucking hated it. Why couldn’t he just fucking _forget_ about her? He-- he was just doing it to protect his friends. But even that thought made him feel guilty, made him feel like a fucking monster. He shouldn't have hurt her. He shouldn't have let it get that far. It was all just... just because he was stupid. Because he hadn't seen the signs until he'd felt the gun on his skin, heard the words that left her mouth.

After a while, he drew a shaky inhale, lifting his head from Steve's chest. "Can I- Can I borrow your vape, dude?" Steve smiled at that-- it was some indication that Cib was coming to his senses. He was going to be alright. At least, that’s what he was telling himself.

"Yeah, dude. Of course." That would probably calm him down, too. He lifted his head to face James and gestured for him to grab his rig.

James faltered before getting up, brows furrowed. Cib looked pretty fucked up, but he and Steve seemed to have it handled. Also, he didn’t want Cib getting his snot and tears all over him. He was a little too hungover for that. He brought Steve his vape rig, handing it to him with a sympathetic glance before he settled down on the end of the bed.

Cib cradled it in both hands before drawing an absolutely immense rip, releasing the cloud of vapor all over Steve with a hiccupy little cough. "Th-Thanks, bro." The rush of nicotine was good. Steadying.

Yeah, Steve really loved fruit punch flavored vapor being blown all over his face. He fanned the air in front of him, trying to get the fruity condensation out of his immediate atmosphere. "Feel better?" He asked, a concerned expression still on his face.

"Lil bit." Cib mumbled, coughing again as he lowered his vape hand and looked up into Steve's eyes. It wasn't really the time for it, but he couldn't help but think about how cute Steve looked - silhouetted in the dim light from the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed, the little gap in his teeth showing. Even though he looked really worried right now... Okay, maybe he always thought Steve was cute, and maybe he'd spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like if they were more than just best friends... But, well. That was stupid. People didn't fall in love with their best fucking friends - that was Disney shit. Besides, he'd be lying to himself if he even entertained the idea that Steve would want to be in a relationship with him -- he'd annoy him to death before they even went on a date. 

That was why he distracted himself with pretty girls. Didn’t really mean as much if they got tired of him - wasn't anything that would hurt forever. There would always be more pretty girls, right?

He stared at him for a while, his eyes distant and watery. Silent. Geez, what would he have done if Cecilia had made good on her threats, if she'd touched his friends, if she had actually _hurt_ them? The thought made rage bubble up in his stomach again, irrational and heavy. It made him feel sick again. Dangerous.

"Hey, you're... staring at me." Steve said a few seconds after the situation was starting to get weird, face heating up. Not only was the sustained eye contact pretty uncomfortable, but, uh... he was fucking cute, and he also really wanted to kiss him. The thought was super fucking inappropriate, though. Jesus, Steve. Way to be a creep. The guy just murdered his girlfriend! Get a hold of yourself.

Cib cleared his throat, expression cracking into a grin despite the way it barely reached his eyes. "Sorry."

James had a pretty good idea of what was going on over here, but he didn’t want to be left out of anything. He snorted, scooting back into the bed and flopping down behind Steve, resting his head on the pillows. Cib still needed to be looked after and, hey, if they started making out-- free show. Win/win situation.

 _Oookay_ , Steve thought. James had his own fucking bed, but alright. They'd all done shoots in here before - the bedroom made everything feel more casual, more intimate. Viewers ate that shit up. Besides, it wasn't like Cib and Steve were about to start fooling around five minutes after the guy woke up from a nightmare. Pssh.

Cib shifted a little, hesitation coloring his motions. He didn't... Usually act like this. Usually did shit without thinking, went headfirst into everything. He didn't get why it was suddenly so much more anxiety inducing to do this right now - to initiate any kind of intimacy. "Um. Uhhh." He cleared his throat again. "Hey, Steve?"

Steve realized he was still holding Cib against him, so he let him go, making sure he didn’t slam his head against the headboard. "Yeah?"

Cib sank back on his elbows, looking up at his friend for another long moment. What was the real risk here? That Steve would... would what? Be upset if he kissed him? That bridge had been crossed a long fucking time ago-- way before either of them spent time fucking around. But maybe this felt different... Too intimate. Even thinking about kissing him felt like touching a finger to an open wound. But, at the same time... Steve had spent so much time caring for him this last day or so. He'd been here for him while he was laying around, fucked up and out of it and not doing anything but puking and being afraid. And... And maybe that meant something, right? Maybe there was something he was missing.

And what if he was wrong? What if there was no tension between them, what if this ruined the last thing he had? Well... Well, he'd already ruined everything else, hadn't he? Every time life handed him something good, he put his fist through it. Parker, Cecelia-- He was a walking nightmare. Even if he didn't ruin their relationship here, by some miracle, he would certainly destroy it sooner or later. So what was the real risk?

"D'you wanna make out?" He said it slowly, like he was nervous. Steve picked up on that immediately - something awful and glittering swelling in his eyes. Like hope. Like a dream that he was scared to address. Cib felt his heart do an awful somersault.

"Uhhh..." Steve’s eyes flashed to James (on his phone), then back to Cib (cute). Was this weird? This was probably weird. Cib had literally _just_ woke up screaming from some awful nightmare and-- and now he wanted to make out? This was probably hugely inappropriate, for sure. But... But god, there was something going through Cib's head, he could just see it. See it in the darkness in his eyes, in the way his mouth was set. Steve didn't know what it was - be it a need to bury his concerns in physical affection, to hide from himself, or... Or...

Well, there was no way it was more than that. Cib probably just wanted Steve to play scapegoat for him, to help him choke down his own guilt. And... Well. Was Steve willing to let himself be used like that? 

"James. Get the fuck out."

"What?" James raised his gaze from his phone, giving Steve a disgruntled expression. "I don't care if you guys suck each other off! I'm chillin'." 

Cib laughed at his friend, his face flushing just a little. "C'monnnn, James. You gotta go or else I'll have to kiss you too, man." 

James rolled his eyes at that, grunting as he hefted himself to his feet and shuffled back out the door. God, he was _not_ in the mood for making out. "Don't get each other pregnant, cucks."

"You're the fucking cuck!" Steve yelled back as James exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him. What a weirdo. He turned back to Cib, their face just inches apart. A part of him - a part that was growing increasingly persistent - really just... wanted to tell Cib how he really felt. Tell him about how he loved him and would fucking die for him and how he wanted to spend the rest of his fucking life with him - no matter what Cib did, no matter what happened between them or anyone else. 

But an admission like that was fucking scary, and Steven Suptic had always been a coward.


	6. You're the one I want to be with, for real, yeah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve looked like he was seconds from crumbling apart in front of him, like he'd swallowed up every bit of bravery he had just to say those words. Like every moment of quiet hesitation was a fresh wound.
> 
> God, Cib really was an idiot, wasn't he? All along, he'd been thinking about how it would never work out between them, how their friendship was too deep and pure to ruin, but... Really, had he just been ignoring Steve's intentions?
> 
> He didn't have time to worry that over right now, though. If he missed this moment there would never be another one. Of that he was almost certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hold on to your fucking pride flags boys we about to get REAL gay and sappy

"You sure you're up for this, man?" Steve said softly, as soon as James was out of sight. His heart was racing.

Cib blinked at him, his fingers fumbling at the sheets. He hadn't felt this nervous in... ages, he guessed. He wasn’t the kind of guy who really got nervous about shit. He usually preferred dealing with the fallout after he made stupid decisions, but this still felt… Scary. 

He was sure he wanted to do this - wanted the distraction and the adrenaline - but... At the exact same time, he was so fucking scared of the outcome - the potential for whatever was happening here, for the tension in his chest to explode right in both of their faces. But… Well, he’d never let anxiety stop him before, had he? 

He swallowed, nodding. “Yeah! Sure as ever, bro. Get down here and uhh-” He coughed, “Make me feel better.” He followed that up with a laugh - just this side of tentative.

Well, Steve didn't need much more assurance than that, did he? Sure, it was stupid to think that kissing Cib would in some way assuage the growing flood of affection inside him -- but… maybe sometimes the best solution is the one you think is the _worst_ solution. That was how things usually worked out, right?

Besides, like… what other choice did he have? _Not_ agreeing to make out with him during this incredibly tumultuous time? Jesus, he wasn’t a prude.

"Yeah, alright." He smiled, shifting so that he was lying next to Cib. Surely this would all work out.

Cib inhaled softly, his eyes flickering down across Steve's lips, lingering on his cute little tooth gap. He was staring again, caught up in his head, in the picture-perfect framing of his best friend’s face only a few inches from his own. He was still sweaty and uncomfortable from his night terror, but he put one hand on Steve's face anyway, leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

The moment it started they could both tell it was... Weird. The gesture was softer than normal - overly intimate on both sides. Like they were both scared of something. It made Cib’s heart feel strange and heavy in his chest.

Steve's heart fucking _swelled_ \-- there was something unsaid here, in this gesture, in every inch of their bodies. They were stretched taut, hesitant and longing. It was electric - a connection he was almost certain Cib could feel too, something outside of either of their realms of understanding. Otherworldly and terrifying. 

They were both tense, neither of them leaning into the motion with their full bodies -- a hesitation that was unfamiliar. Usually they’d fall all over each other, but now… Now there was something unspoken between them, something they were both scared to touch. Steve’s fingers tightened in the sheets, his brain sparking with sudden desperation. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t contain himself. 

He rationalized it even as he pulled back, his lip trembling a little. It wasn’t his fault he felt this way -- they were both exhausted and running on hormones and adrenaline. He couldn't hold himself responsible for what he was about to do. It was out of his control. 

"Cib." His other hand was still on his best friend’s face, fingers gentle against the stubbly skin. Oh, God. He had to do this quickly before he chickened out like the pussy he was. He tried to swallow his nerves, but his mouth was totally dry. It felt like a bomb was about to go off in his chest. Cib’s eyes were heavy and too-raw when they looked back at him, some unknown sadness glittering there. 

"I think I love you, dude."

Cib faltered, his eyes wide, breath coming in heavy, shallow little pants. From his perspective Steve looked like a deer in the headlights - eyes wide and anxious, wet like he was going to cry. He was still so close to him that he could feel his breath on his lips, could hear the nervous tremble underpining his words.

There had been a lot of “I love you’”s between them. 

Maybe Cib held onto them a little too hard - after all, Steve had always seemed distant at worst and friendly and casual at best. There was nothing here but that friendship - that deep, raw river of affection that ran beneath all true best friend experiences. Of course.

The first time stuck in his mind, even now, even as it felt like Steve was trying to change the rules. 

They’d both been in Steve’s fancy super car, the neon speedometer pushing over a hundred as Steve drifted it through the steep curves of the valley at the foot of Mount Chilead. There were maybe a dozen cop cars on their tail, the backseat piled high with bankrolls of cash and two kilos of cocaine.

They’d said it over a peal of adrenaline-high giggles, both of them unsure of whether or not they’d survive the night, but neither of them really minding much. This was life right here - the first real crime run they’d done, both of them glowing and excited and ready to die. Steve’s voice still clung in his ears, honey-sweet and low with adrenaline. “I love you, man. I fucking love you.”

And that had been the start of it, right? The start of that dangerous little ache in Cib’s chest, of the idea of _more_ for them, an idea he was determined to ignore just like the rest of his problems. That was the first time they’d said it, but it wasn’t the last. The words came easy, sprang up during nearly every giddy conversation they had, or the (increasingly frequent) nights they’d pile up in either one of their beds, high and trying desperately to escape the anxiety and stress and panic welling up inside of them. But… It was always just that. Just escape. Just friendship. 

And that… could be what was going on right now, it was just the two of them, best friends, clutching together in Steve's bed. Nothing more, nothing less -- both of them cocooned up within their own denial, within their own determination to keep things uncomplicated. He felt like he could stay there forever, on that precipice, undefined. 

But Steve wanted definition. He could see it when he looked back up into his eyes - there was wanting there that he hadn’t seen before (or maybe just hadn’t wanted to see). 

Steve looked like he was seconds from crumbling apart in front of him, like he'd swallowed up every bit of bravery he had just to say those words. Like every moment of quiet hesitation was a fresh wound. 

God, Cib really was an idiot, wasn't he? All along, he'd been thinking about how it would never work out between them, how their friendship was too deep and pure to ruin, but... Really, had he just been ignoring Steve's intentions?

He didn't have time to worry that over right now, though. If he missed this moment there would never be another one. Of that he was almost certain. 

He drew a slow inhale, chuckling nervously as he released it. "Hah, uh, yeah?” His voice cracked and he grinned, crooked. “Well, I... I love you too, man."

" _Oh thank God_." A relieved, thankful smile spread on the corners of Steve's lips. He could still feel that ball of nausea and anxiety lodged in his gut, and he was still shaking, but he was so, _so_ happy. It was like the weight of the world had dropped from his shoulders.

And... holy shit. Holy shit! Everything he was afraid of, of Cib rejecting his admission, of their years-old friendship being _ruined_ in those few, stupid words-- they were all past him now! He-- he said he loved him _too_! 

His arms could no longer support him, and he flopped over on his side, his face in his hands, his beaming smile peeking out between shaking palms. His hands then fell back to his side, his head tilting over to look back at (amazing, handsome, his entire world) Cib. There was still so much to be sure of. He… just needed to make sure. "For-- for real? Like... _really_? I mean-- I mean, I mean it- forreal this time.”

Cib watched Steve reel, the cutest smile he'd ever seen in his _life_ on his face. He laughed at him, felt his cheeks heat up. Shit, this was... this was happening, wasn't it? They were about to change their definitions, to commit to something deeper than friendship. It felt like a dream - one that was already working hard to wash away the tremors from his sleep.

And really… really, what was going to change? With the exception of being awkward with their affection - keeping an arm’s length - they'd already _done_ so much together that people in relationships did. He felt a wave of giddiness well up in his chest, swallowing up anything else. He couldn’t keep from grinning right back at Steve.

He shifted around so he could flop down on top of him, resting his chin on Steve’s chest and looking up at him. "Yeah, dude. Forreally real. Does this mean we're like... boyfriends? Brofriends. Broyfriends.”

 _Boyfriends_. There was something about that word that felt so incredibly _right_ , like it was what he was looking for his whole life. Boyfriends. The two of them.... There was safety in that label. A guarantee he couldn’t be sure of before. He looked down at Cib fondly, years worth of love and adoration in his eyes, the affection so overwhelming he had to fight not to cover his face again. "Yeah, man. Shit. We’re boyfriends."

Cib grinned at him - genuine and soft, and wiggled forward up his body, "Shit, bro, we gottaaaaa celeblate, yeah?" He leaned up so he could kiss him again, pressing Steve down against the mattress for a long, heavy moment. 

He laughed softly when he pulled back, his eyes a little watery. Man, this whole ordeal was really sappy. He was sort of surprised there weren’t birds singing in the rafters or anything. Disney style.

Steve wrapped his arms around Cib as they kissed, holding him flush to his chest. “Yeah, totally!" He smiled, looking into Cib's misty eyes. "We should go to-- oh, wait. We're trapped here." 

Stupid fucking gang activity ruining this beautiful gay moment. Ugh. Maybe this was less Disney and more Breaking Bad still. But… Geoff would probably have their mess sorted out soon, right? And then he could take Cib out to Falluchi’s or somewhere else fancy and make sweet consummating love to him all over the spaghetti. 

"Oh shit, did James glue the door shut?" Cib cocked his head to the side, some of that placid emptiness returned to his eyes. Sometimes Steve wondered if he did that on purpose - switched off his concerns like they were nothing. He wished he could do that.

"What? No." To be fair, Cib had also just woken up. 

"So, uh, I'm _pretty_ sure that whatever gang... _she_ was in--" He didn't want to say her name. Didn’t want to sour the moment they were having. "--is probably after us now, so... So Geoff said we should stay in the house until he can come help us."

"Oh." Oh yeah. Cecilia. And... All of that. His expression faltered a little, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He was kind of hoping that if he committed hard enough to this whole new romance thing that maybe the Cecilia problem would go away. That was rarely how shit worked, though.

"Guess we're having a little boys day in, huh?" Didn’t matter if they were stuck. They could still celebrate, right?

Steve could see the way that Cib's expression dropped, and he rubbed a hand down his back. It lingered longer than he would’ve dared before. "Yeah, boys day in! Just the two of us!" There was a pause. "And James. I think Autumn’s here too." He grinned. Maybe they could have a little party.

"Is James next on the boyfriend menu?" That was a joke -- James was, as far as he could tell, still adamant that he was straight.

"Hell no!" Steve laughed, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he grinned. "James is a beta cuck."

Cib laughed right back at him, kissing at Steve's face lazily, lips lingering against his cheek. "Hell yeah, more Steve kisses for me." That was really gay, but... Well, they were being gay now! He might as well commit, yeah? He shifted, sliding a hand up Steve's shoulder. "Sooo... You wanna fuck around?”

"You know I do." He smiled again, returning the kisses that Cib had given to him. Everything about this felt so right-- he wasn't sure if he ever felt happier. Wow. Thanks, Cecilia. “Maaaybe we should see if Autumn’s here first?”  
“Aw, c’mon. Autumn knows how to keep hershelf alive.” 

“Mostly.” 

“Yeah! So we should fuck.”

“Uhhh…” Well, Cib was driving a pretty hard bargain.


End file.
